It all started with a conversation on a park bench
by Eleanor the great
Summary: A conversation on a park bench can lead to mysterious places...
1. Chapter 1

Penchants and Ice Cream

It was a burning hot day in July and Arnold and Gerald were sitting on a park bench eating ice creams.

"Ice cream has got to be one of the best things in the world" said Arnold sighing happily

"We may be sixteen but the beauty of ice cream will never be dimmed"

Arnold nodded taking another bite.

Gerald looked over at Arnold nervously. Arnold continued eating his ice cream with an expression of utter contentment on his face.

"Um, Arnold?"

"Yes Gerald?" said Arnold taking another lick

"Have you ever?"

Arnold looked at him nonplussed

"You know…" Arnold's eyes widened

"What? No! – Gerald I haven't even had a girlfriend since 4th grade!"

"Hey! I was just wondering, that's all"

They sat there in silence eating their ice creams, watching the little kids play catch. Gerald's brow was furrowed in thought.

"Arnold?"

"Yes, Gerald?"

"Why haven't you had a girlfriend yet?" he asked thoughtfully

"I have had a girlfriend"

"No, I mean _apart _from Lila in the 4th grade"

"I don't know, I haven't really had a crush on anyone," said Arnold, shrugging

"I find that hard to believe" Gerald said, his eyebrow raised

"Well, there was this one girl"

"I'm listening,"

"She said her name was Cecile which turned out to be a lie, but she looked well…"

"Yes?"

"She looked a bit like, um"

"yeees?"

"She looked like Helga"

Gerald stared at him for a moment

"Wait, are you telling me the reason you've never been out with a girl is because you have a crush on Helga?"

"No! Cecile, I mean the girl pretending to be Cecile, just happened to look a bit like Helga"

Gerald looked at him over the top of his sunglasses which had become a permanent fixture since the 9th grade.

"Is there another girl you've had a crush on?"

"No! Well, I mean-"

"I'm listening"

"This is gonna sound stupid"

"Don't worry, everything you say sounds stupid"

"Ha ha" said Arnold sarcastically "Promise me, you won't laugh"

"I promise" said Gerald grinning

"You know my cousin, Arnie?"

"Yeah"

"Well, I had this weird dream ages ago"

"Uh huh"

"About this girl who lived in his town"

"So, wait you haven't actually met this girl?"

"Well, no"

"But you've dreamt about her"

"Um, yes" said Arnold blushing

"Go on"

"And her name's Hilda"

"Sounds remarkably like Helga, don't you think" said Gerald sagely

"Well, yes, I guess, but she's totally different to Helga"

"How so?"

"Well, she's really nice and poetic and beautiful"

"Poetic?" Gerald asked skeptically

"Yeah" said Arnold looking into the distance, a drip from his ice cream ran down his wrist but he didn't seem to notice

"Like she didn't care what anyone else thought, she was just herself…"

"And, how many times have you had this dream?"

"It's not the same dream every time, Gerald"

"Alright, how many times has this mystery girl featured in your dreams"

"Um, quite a lot"

"More than once a month"

"Um, yeah," Arnold rubbed the back of his head absent mindedly with the hand that had ice cream on it

"Riiight, is there anyone else you've had a crush on?"

"Um, there was the girl at the masquerade dance"

"And you never found out who that was,"

"No,"

"But she had blonde hair"

"Yes,"

"And she was in our class"

"Yes,"

"And she mentioned Mr Simmons"

"Yes,"

"And you've thought about the possibility that was Helga"

"Yes, but she was so nice, she couldn't have been Helga"

Gerald raised his eyebrows

"I dunno Arnold,"

"What?"

"Well, think about what you just told me"

"What do you mean?"

"I think you've got a crush on Helga"

"Pfft, no I don't"

"Yes, you do"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do"

"No, I don't!"

"Arnold." Gerald said, his tone quelling

"you talk about her all the time, the only girls you've had crushes on in the last 6 years have been very similar to Helga, and quite possibly could be Helga. You've had dreams about a girl who's mysteriously like a 'nice, poetic Helga' (_Ahem_, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that the person who won the poetry award every year since we started high school was blonde haired, blue eyed and has a penchant for calling you football head).

"Penchant?" said Arnold grinning

"it means a strong liking for something,"

"Right, penchant…" a grin tugged at the corner of Arnold's mouth

"Therefore, I believe, that you, Arnold Shortman are head over heels for none other than Helga G. Pataki."

"You've forgotten something major Johansson, she hates me."

"So, it doesn't mean you haven't fallen for her"

"I don't think so Gerald," said Arnold taking a bite out of his ice-cream which promptly led to a brain freeze. Gerald smirked as Arnold clapped a hand to his head

"Anyway, why did you want to ask me about 'you know' in the first place"

"Oh yeah, that." Gerald rubbed the back of his head

"Well?"

"Um, well, you know how I've been crushing on Phoebe for a while"

"Oh."

"What do you mean 'Oh.'"

"I thought-, doesn't matter."

Gerald grinned

"You thought your best friend was a playa didn't cha?"

Arnold smiled sheepishly

"I just, I want to ask her out, but, well-"

"what?"

"Do you think I'm smart enough for her?"

"Sure you are Gerald" said Arnold bracingly

"With words like 'penchant' I can't see how she could resist"

Gerald wacked him over the head playfully

"Shut up"

Arnold grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I wrote the first chapter and I didn't think it would be a one-shot, and then I thought it was, and then I wasn't sure. But, anyway, I've finally decided it isn't, so this is what I've come up with for the next chapter. It's very short… I'm not sure though, maybe they should both be one-shots… tell me what you think…

Thoughts and the moon

The sky was clear as Arnold gazed up through his skylight. He couldn't get to sleep. The thought that he liked Helga was not unfamiliar, in fact, it was incredibly familiar. The problem was, Helga, well, she was so cool, like she was from a different world.

The thought that she liked him crossed his mind, and not for the first time. The kiss in Romeo and Juliet back in the fourth grade, the way she always seemed to be there when he needed someone to talk to. The first time he failed a test she had been there, she hadn't done anything in particular, she just sat there and gave him a hug, and then handed him some graham crackers. Or the day when Grandma had forgotten who he was, she had walked with him all over the city.

Arnold lay there thinking. Last year Helga had been voted school captain by an alarming majority of students, not many people knew, but the principal had been against Helga's appointment. Arnold, who had been school vice captain still didn't know how Helga had managed to convince Principal Weiss that she was the right person for the job. She'd done some crazy things, in their freshman year she'd set off the fire alarm because she'd been 'bored', in their junior year she'd brought a goat to school to eat the grass which she believed was better for the environment than the lawnmower. And last year she'd shaved half her head to support leukemia. She was still a bully, but she stuck up for the underdog more often than not and considering her popularity people liked her for it now.

When he thought of her face, he smiled, he thought of the way she'd been blisteringly honest to him that night on school camp when they sat around the campfire. She spoke honestly about her life, and his, about Phoebe's and Gerald's about everyone they knew, but with that self-deprecating humor that made Arnold wonder. She had stared at the moon, 'the inconstant moon' she'd said, 'like our lives.' And as he lay there, Arnold came to realize that he couldn't imagine his life without Helga. So he thought over his options.

He could tell her how he felt and ask her out

He could somehow get her to ask him out

He could leave their relationship the way it was – which was much safer

Looking at his options he knew which one he chose. But it would be hard. The last time he'd asked someone out was eight years ago.


End file.
